


The Sociopath's Daughter

by imnotapsyduck



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Community: wholockians, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Crossing Timelines, Doctor Who References, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Kid Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27581813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotapsyduck/pseuds/imnotapsyduck
Summary: After the death of her mother, a young girl finds her sociopath father and his work partner. Along with them, she meets many new faces. Some faces she likes more than others.
Relationships: Aiden Smith - Relationship, Cecily Holmes, Mrs. Hudson - Relationship, Mycroft Holmes - Relationship, Rose Tyler - Relationship, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson & Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, The Doctor - Relationship





	1. The Beginning

I was sitting by my mother, with tears blocking my vision. Then I could see the bright, flashing lights of police cars and ambulances, followed by us being separated. Seeing them taking her away and having my last moments with her end like that was horrible. The next thing I knew, I was sitting in the back of a police car with a blanket over my shoulders and police men chatting in the front. They were probably talking to me, but I couldn’t listen to the monsters who took my mother away. I was too in shock to even listen in the first place anyway. Then I came self-aware after one policewoman opened the police car door and said my name a few times as she waved her hand in front of my face. “Yes?” I asked softly. I couldn’t see her through the tears that kept blocking my view.

She kneeled down by the door. “Do you know where your father is?” I shrugged because I actually didn’t know. I never met him and mum and I never spoke of him. Not because he was a monster or anything, he just never came up in conversation. “Is he not with us?” she asked with a look of sympathy which was obviously fake. I then shrugged again and she looked a bit confused. “When was the last time you saw him?” she asked.

“I never did,” I said looking up at her with tears still streaming down my face.

She nodded and then whispered to one of the cops, in which he nodded. “Do you have any close family members? Like an uncle, aunt, or grandparents?” She asked holding a notepad in one hand, and a pen in her other hand. Again, I shook my head. It has only been me and my mum this whole time, I didn’t know I needed anyone else. “How old are you Cecily? And do you have any siblings?” She asked as she wrote down my answers to the last questions she asked.

“I’m five, and no, it was only me and my mum. No other relatives. We never talked about my dad, I don’t think he’s dead, but you never know.” I said as I wiped my tears with the blanket and then took a deep breath.

She nodded. “Okay, so Cecily, we are going to go back to the police station to figure out where you’re going to live, okay?” She said looking at me with yet another fake sympathetic look on her face.

“I suppose that would make sense, you can’t exactly just leave me here,” I said as I was looking at the sidewalk where I was last with my mother.

The policewoman smiled. “We would never do that,” then she got up and closed the car door. She then told the policemen in the front to drive to the station.

On the car ride there, all I could think about was my mother and how I’ll never see her again. I cried so much that I had no more tears to cry out, so I just looked out the window, reminiscing. When we arrived, one of the policemen open the door for me and I stepped out, still grasping on to the blanket. The cold winter wind helped with the redness on my face from the crying. We stepped inside the warm station and everyone was staring at me. They told me to sit down on a bench and that they promised they were going to find my dad. They said they were going to run DNA tests with people my mother was recently with. Soon a man in a lab coat came up to me.

“This might pinch a little bit,” he said, acting as I’ve never had a shot before. Needles don’t scare me, they never did. So while he was taking a small blood sample I didn’t flinch, cry, or complain. I sat perfectly still and waited for results because I really just wanted to leave as soon as possible. I don’t enjoy being the center of attention. If anything, I like to fly below the radar.

Soon I heard someone yell. “We’ve got a match!” This was followed by everyone scurrying to the computer with excitement, then with confusion and shock.

I could hear some people talking. “That can’t be!”

“There must be a fault in this bloody system.”

“I could never imagine him being in any sort of relationship.”

“Well, at least her father isn’t dead.”

“Are we sure we should leave her with him?”

“Well, he doesn’t have a criminal record.”

“But he is absolutely mad!”

“And she’s his daughter!”

I didn’t know how long their faffing was going to go on, so I decided to just go up and ask as if I didn’t know already. “Did you find him?” I questioned, with a sad face hoping it would convince them to let me leave.

“Yes we did,” one lady said with a wide grin.

“Well, may I go see him?!” I asked with fake excitement in my voice. They all looked at each other and whispered until one policeman picked up his police car keys, and escorted me out to the car.


	2. I Would Like You to Meet John Watson.

The policeman opened the door for me and the cold breeze rushed towards me, brushing my cheeks and blowing my black wavy hair back. I left the blanket inside the station because I just wanted to leave, and to stop being the elephant in the room. I started to regret that decision when we got into the car. Since he turned the car off when he left it, it was very cold and took a while to heat up. As we left the station’s parking lot, I started to wonder who my father was, and what he would be like. The reactions from the people at the station were disconcerting. I was a little excited because I have overheard conversations my mother has had with my grandmother years back on the phone before my gran passed away. She said I was a lot like my father personality-wise. When it came to looks, I was apparently a “mix”, as in I looked like both my mother and father. My mother was beautiful, sweet, and kind. I wasn’t sweet and kind and I couldn’t care less if I was beautiful. Looks don’t really matter to me. My mother always said I was beautiful. I feel like she would say it because she thought it would make me happy. I would smile because I knew if I gave the illusion that I was happy, she would be happy. I liked to make her happy, after all, she is the one who kept me alive all these years. My mother’s eyes were bright blue, but my eyes are a bright greenish-blue. My mother said my eyes were hypnotic and that they were the first thing people would notice about me. We came to a stop in front of a place called “Speedy’s, sandwich bar & café.” After a few seconds of confusion, I turned my head and saw a door that said “221 B” with a weird knocker below it. The policeman got out of the car and then opened my door. Once again, the cool breeze came but with more of a punch, and it started feeling absolutely freezing. The policeman walked up to the door and knocked, completely ignoring the knocker. I suppose he wants to get this over with as much as I do. No one answered, so he knocked again, but in the midst of his second knock the door started to open. To my surprise and disappointment, an elderly lady opened the door. “Oh is freezing out there! Please, please come inside!” She said while waving her hand to invite us into her home. We took her offer and walked inside, then the policeman started to speak with her.

“Is Mr. Holmes home?” He asked with a stern voice. Is my father an old man? Not that old men aren’t nice to live with, it’s just that I’d rather not go through another death of a family member so soon.

“Why, yes he is. Would you like to speak with him?” She said, looking worried at him, and then looking at me. Who is this?” She said with a welcoming smile.

The policeman looked down at me. “This is Mr. Holmes’ daughter, Cecily Rose Adler. Now, hopefully, Cecily Rose Holmes.” He said, and then looked up at the lady with a smile. She looked shocked but then started to laugh. The policeman and I looked at each other, confused, then looked back at her. “Miss, may we please see Mr. Holmes?” She nodded as she laughed. The policeman then walked up to her, whispered something into her ear, and then the expression on her face went from happiness to shock.

“Oh, dear.” She said as she covered her mouth with her hand. “Right this way,” she said still with a small amount of shock on her face as she escorted us upstairs, and to a door in which she started to knock. “Sherlock, are you home?”

“He’s not here at the moment, Ms. Hudson!” Said a man in the room.

“May I come in, John?” She turned her head to look at me. “It’s quite important!” She said turning her head back to the door.

“Oh, sure!” John said, followed by footsteps coming up to the door. Opening the door was a man not too short, yet not too tall either. He looked at Ms. Hudson, then at the policeman, and then lastly at me, with the most confusion. “Come in?” He almost questioned as he moved out of the doorway. We all came inside and my eyes automatically started to look around the apartment. As the policeman was explaining what happened to my mother and the whole situation, I wandered into the kitchen. It was amazing! Microscopes, slides, test tubes, etcetera. I wandered over to the refrigerator, looking inside only to find a severed head. Before I could react, I heard my name being called.

“Cecily?” The policeman questioned, looking for me. I closed the refrigerator door quickly and walked back.

“Yes?” I asked sweetly.

“Please stay here,” he said before going back to his conversation. I was too bored to hear them talk, so I picked up a newspaper that was on a table and then sat down on a chair nearby. After a few minutes, the policeman started to speak to me. “Cecily.” I looked up at him. “I would like you to meet John Watson.”


	3. 20 Questions

John gave a sympathetic smile and waved at me. I am so sick of all this sympathy, I don’t even feel sad anymore! I just feel empty. I smiled back and put my hand out for a handshake “It’s very nice to meet you, John.” He shook my hand.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” he said slightly nodding his head.

“So you’re a friend of my father?” I asked, just trying to bring up the conversation and to avoid the sorry-about-what-happened-to-your-mother sympathy speech.

“Yes I am,” he said again slightly nodding.

“So, I bet you are the one who can tell me where he is at the moment,” I said with a smile.

“He’s working,” he said smiling back.

“What’s his occupation?” I said, trying to get to know what kind of person he is.

“A detective,” he stated as his face got a bit more serious.

“So is he working on a recent case?”

“Yes.” His face had more sympathy in it.

“My mother’s murder?” After I asked that, it was silent for about a minute until he sighed.

“Yes.” I nodded and looked around. I saw a desk with a computer and papers around it and began walking towards it.

“So, Mr. Watson, I believe she is safe to be left with you?” The policeman asked with his stern serious voice. John turned to him.

“Yeah, she’s fine with me.” He said then looked back at me.

“So my job is done here,” the policeman said. “Have a nice night,” he said before walking out the door and closing it. Ms. Hudson and John looked at each other and started whispering loudly about how they’re going to tell ‘him’, how ‘he’ won’t believe them, and how this can’t be true. As they were doing that, I was looking at the papers on the desk. All of them were about mysteries and murders. One was easy to solve, but some I couldn’t figure out, and some that would probably take me longer to figure out. Soon John turned his head toward me.

“Oh! Cecily doesn’t touch those!” He exclaimed as he turned his body around as well and started to walk towards me. I picked up the paper of one of the mysteries and turned towards him.

“Were you trying to figure this one out?” I asked showing it to him.

“Yes.” He said sternly, grabbing all the papers on the desk followed by the one in my hand. I turned back and mumbled.

“Well, it was the mother in law.” He stopped.

“What?” he asked, obviously very confused.

“I said it was the mother i-” I started, but then he cut me off.

“No, I know what you said. But how could it possibly be the mother in law? The husband was killed by his wife. All the evidence points to the wife.”

“Well, obviously the mother in law was angry at both her daughter and son in law. She was angry at her son in law because she believes that he made her into an alcoholic and white trash mother. She was angry at her daughter because of all the things that she did, so she decided to kill the ‘source’ of her daughter’s problems, and decided to teach her daughter a lesson for actually doing these things.” He put the papers back on the desk

“Well then how come she keeps failing the lie detector tests?” He asked. I picked up the paper that had the daughter’s background and the hypothesis that the police gave.

“Well, as you can see, she has extreme anxiety, and she is probably thinking about everything that is going on, thus increasing her stress. Also, making the police believe that she shot him because of her anxiety. So, it was the mother in law.” I smiled and put the paperback on the pile then went to sit down and read the newspaper again.

“Cecily, how old are you?” He asked, confused, as he turned and walked up to me.

“I’m five, turning six in three months,” I said as I was reading the comics and laughed a little. John sat down and sighed.

“So you’re in primary school?” He asked and I nodded. “Do you have any friends at school?” He asked hesitantly. I thought for a second and nodded.

“Samantha, I call her Sammie, Dusk and Dawn. Sammie is my best friend and Dusk and Dawn are twins.” I whispered, “Their mummy is a bit strange,” and then laughed a bit more at the comics. He nodded and sat back.

“Your father should be home soon. Would you like me to call him to come now? I bet you’re just aching to meet him.” I shrugged.

“Whatever you think is best,” I said as I closed the newspaper and picked up a book which I started reading.

“Okay, I’ll call him then,” he said as he took out his phone and called him. He got up and just stood in front of his chair.

“Can I go outside?” I asked quietly, but all he did was shake his head.

“No, stay in her- hello? Sherlock? Yeah, can you come home like, now?” He walked into the kitchen and kept talking. I sighed and walked around the room trying to look for something to do. I soon came across a game of chess and, just as I was about to play, someone knocked on the door.


	4. Be Our Guest

I answered the door and an odd-looking man walked through. "John can you plea-" he paused and turned to look down at me.

"Who are you?" I asked with one eyebrow raised as I closed the door and then looked back up at him.

"Don't you have any sort of common decency?" He looked at me with a stern face as John hung up and walked in.

"Mycroft, why are you here?"

"Is this my new niece that everyone is going bloody crazy over?" He asked as he looked at me.

"My name is Cecily. I guess you would be my new uncle. Nice to meet you, I guess." I put my hand out and he shook it.

"Is it true?" Mycroft asked John as he turned his head with the same stern face. John nodded his head.

"A DNA test proved it, and a policeman showed me the printed copy." Mycroft looked back at me.

"Does Sherlock know?" I looked at John, who then looked at me.

"No, I just got off the phone with him. He said nothing about it. So I suppose he's oblivious." Mycroft nodded.

"Is he on his way back?"

"Yes," John answered.

"Well, if you're going to stay come sit down," I said, sort of interrupting their exchange, as I grabbed his hand and lead him to a chair.

"No, no I was just about to leav-"

"Please stay. Only until my father comes. I want to learn more about you." I said looking up at him. He sighed.

"Fine. But only until then. I have important business to take care of."

"Thank you," I said smiling. "I will go make some tea," I said, walking towards the kitchen.

"No you're not," John said as he stepped in front of me on my way to the kitchen. "I'll have Ms. Hudson make us some tea." I sighed.

"I already know about the head in the refrigerator." As I said that, Mycroft turned and looked a bit confused.

"Well, I don't want you getting hurt when you've only been here for an hour," John said as he walked to the door to get Ms. Hudson. "Don't go in the kitchen." He said before going downstairs. I walked to a seat and sat down.

"So, are you and my father close?"

"How come you weren't surprised by the head in the refrigerator?" he asked, ignoring my previous question.

"Why are you avoiding the subject?" I asked.

"I'm not. Why are you?" He asked.

"Well, I asked my question first," I said.

"And I asked mine second," he said raising his eyebrows.

"It doesn't work like that," I said, slightly annoyed.

"Now, who said it didn't?" He asked.

"Me, your niece, trying to figure out who you are, and I think I already have. You work for the government, you and my father are close although you definitely have some sort of thing that makes your relationship different from other brotherly relationships." He looked at me with his same stern face, and then John walked in with Ms. Hudson, who was holding a tray with a tea pot and some teacups. She put the tea on a table and looked at me with, yet another, sympathetic look.

"How are you holding up dear?" She asked with her hands folded.

"I'm holding up well, thank you," I said with a sweet smile.

"That's good!" She smiled back before leaving.

"Thank you, Ms. Hudson!" John said as she left. "So," he began as he went to sit down. "What have you two been talking about?" He looked at me and then at Mycroft.

"Just random rubbish," I said smiling at Mycroft.

"Yes, just mucking around." He said still with a stern face.

"Okay then." He said again, looking back at both of us. "Would you two like some tea?" He asked, trying to break the awkwardness.

"Yes," we both said, still staring at each other, as John poured the tea and gave it to us. I took a sip.

"So, my delightful uncle, would you like to tell me if I have any other family I have yet to meet? Or is it just you and my father?" I questioned, smiling, and then put my tea down.

"Well, you have a Grandmother and Grandfather," he said, and then took a sip of his tea.

"Is that all?" I asked.

"Is that not good enough?" He retorted, putting his tea down.

"Well, it's more family than I had before the 'incident', so I am content with this family."

"Good, I wouldn't want to disappoint," he said sarcastically.

I got up and walked towards the chessboard that was on a table by the fireplace "Before you came I was going to play a nice game of chess, would you like to play with me?" I said as I pointed to the game.

"No thank you," he said with an annoyed smile.

"Do you know how to have fun, my delightful uncle?" I sighed then returned to my seat and picked up my tea.

"Why of course I do, who doesn't know how to have fun" he hissed, before taking a sip of tea.

"I beg to differ," I said raising an eyebrow and taking a sip of tea as well. "You seem like someone who doesn't enjoy fun."

"Kids your age don't seem to think chess is that amusing. Do you have any friends?" he asked, putting the tea down.

"Why yes I do, three. They aren't like me but, they are different like I am." I said smiling

"Interesting, how so?" he asked with a curious look on his face

"Well, one of my friends is Sammie who is short-tempered. So she gets in trouble a lot and kids are scared of her. My other two friends are Dawn and Dusk. Their mum dyes their hair their favorite color so she can tell them apart since they're identical twins." I said, taking another sip of tea before putting it back down once again. "How about you, my delightful uncle?" I said, pouring myself another cup of tea "Did you have many friends in Primary school?"

"No, no I didn't," he said sternly.

"Well, I guess-" I paused and turned my head as I heard the door to the flat open once more.


	5. Friendship is Elementary

I turned to see who it was. It was a tall man with dark curly hair, pale and hypnotic eyes that I also have. Could it be him? Could this actually be my father?

"You will never believe who the victim was," the mysterious man said completely ignoring my existence.

"Was it per-chance Irene Adler's?" John asked with fake confusion in his voice

"It was, how did you?" the man asked squinting his eyes.

John looked at me and I raised my eyebrows then he looked back at the man, who I am 90% sure by this point in the conversation is my father, and he still had a look of confusion "What? I don't get it. Did I miss something?" John and I looked at each other once more

"Well, come on, spit it out! What is it?"

John looked back at him "Well you kind of are missing some information that we all think is quite important" I nodded as I turned my head towards the man

"It's very important. Its information one should know"

He walked up to me with a serious face and looked down at me "Who are you?"

I put my hand on my chest "I was previously Cecily Rose Adler, but sadly that is not exactly the case anymore. Now I am Cecily Rose, Holmes." It was quiet for a few minutes after I said that "Are you still confused? Well, let me make it easier for you. I, Cecily, am your daughter. Simple enough?" I asked looking at him straight in the eyes as he nodded.

He stood there for a while, opened his mouth as to say something then closed it. He took his eyes off me and onto John who was waiting for someone to say something.

"John, may I speak to you for a moment?" he asked as he walked into the kitchen. John looked at him as he walked by.

"Um, yeah. Cecily, stay there," he demanded in a bit of a rush as he followed the tall man into the kitchen.

I looked around the room and nothing had caught my eye, it was just filled with papers and things uninteresting. I decided to go outside and perhaps count the cars. I opened the door and closed it after walked out, the sounds of John and the tall man's whispers soon disappearing. I walked down the stairs and once again opened yet another door, with this one leading to freedom. Like the last time I closed this one after I had exited and sat down on one of the steps that are in front of the door. I kicked my legs a bit as I looked around at my new surroundings. It wasn't an amazing view, but it was better than nothing I suppose. I looked up at the moon and all the friends surrounding him. I find it so strange that all these little shimmers of light are actually millions of suns that shine their faces on their own family of planets, possibly with their own moons. I always wanted to visit the moon, the friend who has been there by my side every day when the other children have excluded me, or when things like today happen. Some may think its creepy to think of something like the moon is looking down at you, but the moon for me is what a blanket or a teddy bear is to any other child, a reassuring part of your life that is there no matter what happens. As I was trying to look for a constellation, I heard rustling from the nearby corner. As a mix of adrenaline and curiosity ran through me I stood up and walked toward it. Was it a cat? A dog? Perhaps even a drunken man, who knows at this point? As I approached the corner I came face to face with a boy about my age, or at least he looked it even though he was slightly taller.

I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow "Who are you?" I asked confused, considering he was by himself at the late hours of the night.

"I'm Aiden," he said with a smile as he put his hand out "who are you?"

I looked at him still confused and a bit creeped out by his enthusiasm, but still shook his hand "Nice to meet you Aiden, I'm Cecily" I said then pulled my hand away. "Why are you out here so late?" I asked looking around a bit.

"Well I could be asking you the same question Cecily," he said putting his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, you could, but I asked you first." I replayed, a bit annoyed, but I didn't want to scare away a potentially new and possibly first real friend with my rudeness.

"Well, I'm visiting here. So, I decided to take a walk" he said normally

"Oh, interesting," I replied with a nod, still very confused.

"Isn't it?" he asked rhetorically

He was an odd boy, he didn't seem to be affected or show any change in his expression because of this horribly uncomfortable conversation. Does he have some sort of social disorder?

"Well, I don't actually believe that it is very interesting. I was just saying that to have an answer to your, quite frankly, uninteresting statement." I answered as I put my hands behind my back.

He looked at me, then began to laugh. I looked at him, raising an eyebrow out of absolute confusion.

"I don't understand, did I say something funny?" I asked

"No, just forget it," he said shaking his head. I began to get frustrated, I don't like not knowing things.

"No." I protested, "Tell me, I would like to know," I said trying to pry it from him. Instead of telling me what the source of his cackling was, he just smiled at me. I moved back a bit, confused yet again.

"What?" I asked harshly.

"I have a great idea," he said, continuing to smile.

"It probably isn't a great idea, most likely mediocre, but go on" I nodded.

"We should be friends," he said excitedly.

"Friends?" I asked, not very used to this invitation. I never really had, friends.

"Friends. Best Friends maybe?" he said extending his hand out.

"Sure," I said hesitantly shaking his hand, with a slight smile.

"Fantastic." He said with a wide grin. I smiled back at him, happy about my first friend. As I was about to speak to him more, I heard the distant sound of John yelling my name. I turned and looked at the door, then looked back at Aiden.

"I have to go," I said, a bit disappointed.

"I'll see you again sometime." He said, still smiling that same smile. He walked past me, putting his hands in his pockets. I sighed and walked up to the door. Before opening it I looked back, but the boy mysteriously just disappeared. I walked back down, ignoring the calls of my name, and walked down in that direction. After a few steps, I heard this strange swooshing noise. It was almost indescribable. I walked towards it and ended up walking into an alley, where I saw a fading, old police box. Almost like it was going in and out of existence. I stepped backwards out of the alley, with a gasp. I stopped and felt a strong pressure on my arm. I looked over and saw a hand grasping onto me, making me scream and kick. I looked up and calmed down, realizing it was John. Feeling like an absolute dunce, I stood straight up and looked up at him

"Why would you do that?" I snapped at him.

"I told you not to move" he snapped back

"I got bored, you can't keep me in there!" I protested. "That's child abuse!"

He rolled his eyes "Just," he took a deep breath "don't do that again."

I looked up at him, then looked back into the alley "John I think that I may have post-traumatic stress disorder."

"Why do you say that?" he asked, looking into the alley as well, confused.

"I'm hallucinating, I've gone mad!" I said

He rolled his eyes "Let's just get back home and sort everything out there" he said, starting to walk toward the flat. I nodded and followed, occasionally looking back before entering 221B once again.


	6. The Sign of Three?

As I was practically dragged up the creaky stairs, I couldn't help but think of how mad the day had been.

"This couldn't have been real," I thought to myself. This day was straight out of a movie, that I just so happen to be sucked into. However, I decided to, though it was impossible, try and forget the events of today. She wouldn't have wanted me to dwell on this, yet I can't help but ponder on how I held myself together. I treated it like it happened years ago, not hours. As I pondered, John and I walked into the dreaded room again and closed the door. As soon as we walked in I automatically felt dread in my heart, almost like someone dropped an anvil in it. I did not care to speak to my father, even after all these years of dreaming about how he would talk and look, or what kind of books he loved and what we had in common. Yet, when I was given the opportunity all I wanted to do is sit and read in solitude.

"Now," John said with a sigh as he looked at the both of us. While he spoke, I decided to look at the wall with, what seemed to be, bullet holes in it.

"How about I make us some more tea and we can just talk about this." He said, giving me that sympathetic smile that I hated more than anything. I walked over to the wall to get a closer look, scanning my eyes around it. I found the smiley face quite ironic, which sort of made me smile.

"Have you done this?" I asked, turning around towards the odd-looking man, as he turned toward me. "I cannot see the short one doing it, and unless you've got another flatmate, this must have been you," I said enthusiastically.

"Yes, that was all me." He said walking up to the wall, looking at it as well.

"If you don't mind me asking, why did you shoot your wall?" I asked, with a slight chuckle.

"I was bored" he stated nonchalantly, with a shrug.

"So if I live here, and I get bored, can I shoot the wall?" I asked excitedly with a wide grin on my face. Before he could answer John peeked his head out of the kitchen.

"Absolutely not!" he protested. We both looked at each other and shrugged.

"I guess that's that." I sighed, looking back at the wall. As I grew bored myself, I walked away from the wall and toward some books.

"You haven't got many books, do you?" I asked quite disappointed, reading was my absolute favorite pass time. He turned toward me and looked around as he walked over, then looked at me.

"I'm not here enough to read." He said, probably trying to shrug off how sad his book collection was.

"But you just said how you get bored, so bored that you shoot your wall!" I argued.

"I like exciting things, and sometimes books cannot fulfill those needs." He said sternly.

"You and your brother are so alike," I said shaking my head.

"We are not." He protested, rolling his eyes.

"You so are!" I protested back. "Right down to the way you move your face, quite obvious you two are brothers if you ask me" I shrugged.

"We are nothing alike, you have no idea what you're talking about" he argued in a stern tone. "You spent two minutes with him, you barely know him at all!"

"Two minutes is all I need," I said with a cheeky grin. "I am quite observant if I do say so myself."

As we bickered, John came in with the tea.

"Alright now stop it, how about we have a pleasant conversation?" he asked rhetorically, setting down the tea tray and sitting down. I decided to be civil and also sit down, and my lovely father followed soon after.

"What's there to talk about?" I asked as I poured myself some tea.

"You must be joking," John asked raising an eyebrow. "Have you already forgotten today's events and let's not forget the fact we never knew about you and vice versa." He said, sounding a little fed up.

"Well, I tried to forget about today," I said with I sigh, before taking a sip of my tea. "However, I have no problem answering any questions you have" I shrugged. "So, by all means, ask away" I said placing my tea back down as I folded my hands on my lap.

"Well, how about you just tell us about yourself?" John asked looking sympathetically at me. "That could probably answer many questions"

"Well, alright" I shrugged and sighed. "Well, my name is Cecily Rose Adler, or Holmes, or whatever my last name is now that my mother has passed. Unless you decide not to take me in, which would result in me having some sort of mystery last name." I said, going off on a tangent as always. "I'll be turning six this December, December tenth to be exact." I nodded, trying not to speak too fast. "I was raised by my mother all my life, up until now of course. Actually, funny story, my mum said you died." I said looking over at the mysterious man, also known as my father, with a smile. "Boy was she wrong, huh," I said with a chuckle, trying to brighten the mood after what I just said. However, I failed, terribly as they looked at me a bit weirdly. "Um, well, we traveled a lot." I said, trying to think of what my life was like and how to describe it to people who hadn't lived it. "She would always have last-minute trips, out of nowhere and the length of the trip would vary." I picked up my tea and took a quick sip of it before continuing. "So I have been in and out of schools, for the short amount of time I've been in school. Mum was actually going to start homeschooling me. Until today, that is." I said looking down at my shoes, to avoid the sympathy eye contact that made me cringe.

"Well we've definitely learned more than we knew already, haven't we?" John asked looking over at my father. He nodded in return and looked at me, with a scanning stare.

"Are you trying to read me like a book?" I asked, looking back at him. "I've told you everything you need to know, I'm not a spy," I said with a chuckle.

"Have you got any other, siblings?" John asked dreading the answer.

"No, I'm an only child," I said shaking my head. I looked over at Sherlock "Isn't that a relief?" I asked, again trying to relieve the tension. He nodded in agreement, he seemed to be thinking. "I do have a question for you two though," I said looking at the both of them.

"Yes, of course! Ask away" John said, a little too enthusiastically.

"Will I be staying here?" I asked putting my tea down. "I just want to prepare myself if I'm going to be put in the system," I said with a sigh. "I've read some stories of kids who are in the system and there are a lot of terrible things." I said shaking my head "I just need to be mentally prepared before embarking on that journey" I said as I kicked my feet back and forth since they didn't touch the ground.

"Well," John said with uncertainty. "I don't see why not," he said looking over at Sherlock.

"We didn't discuss this." Sherlock protested, looking at John.   
"Well, where is she going to go?' John asked, fed up. "She's your daughter for Pete's sake!"

"Yeah, I'm right here," I said, budding into the argument.

"Well I don't know, but I have work here!" Sherlock protested, ignoring my comment "I don't need a child's hands all over it!"

"Excuse me, my hands are quite clean." I protested

"You're being absolutely ridiculous," John said, rolling his eyes. "She's staying here." Again, ignoring my comment.

"Aaand she's leaving the room," I said to myself as I walked into the kitchen, John and Sherlock too invested in arguing to notice my disappearance. I opened the refrigerator and saw a plethora of gory things. It was absolutely amazing if you ask me. My fridge with my mum had fruit, eggs, milk, and such. This one had a bag of thumbs! I was practically praying that they would let me stay there. I practically climbed up and sat down on a chair to get to a microscope that was on the island in the kitchen. Typically used for food purposes, but instead used for awesome science experiments that made my young mind practically explode with joy. Before I was able to look through the actual microscope, I heard my name being yelled from the Living room.

"Coming!" I said, quite disappointed. I climbed down and walked into the room, ready to hear my decided fate.


End file.
